Ana Castillo: Massacre of the Dreamers (1995)

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Massacre of the Dreamers is crucial literature for any activist in the 21st century, as Castillo searingly navigates through the century-old roots of oppression at the heart of the Americas: the oppression of the brown woman.

Castillo not only details the layers of misogynist systems which brown women have faced throughout their existence, but she also manages to cast a vision for those of us who want to be allies of Xicanisma –Chicana-based feminist consciousness — as we seek to free ourselves from our own internalized oppression.

Steeped with fact-based analysis but not overwhelmingly focused on numbers, the book is also a model for what academic literature should be: based on the present conditions faced ‘on the ground’ by non-academics, since the majority of the working class which so many scholars hope to advocate for have neither the time nor the patience to sift through jargon-laden writing aimed at other academics.

M.O.D was published in 1995, but is as relevant now as it was during the nineties for its careful examination of events like the Chicano Student walkouts of East Los Angeles in 1968, subsequent movements for economic justice such as the 1986 Watsonville Women’s Strike, and the form which the movement has taken more recently in events such as the Mujeres Activas en Letras y Cambio Social (MALCS) conference.

For its words of wisdom, sources, and its persistence in seeking ways to identify and dismantle systems of inequality, I absolutely recommend Ana Castillo’s book for anyone looking to learn about the Amerindian, or Mestiza mujer‘s role in the movement.

J.T.

When I Rest My Temple

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My body is a mountain, formed by the ages, and my eyes are birds overseeing the mountain, pulling every bit of me through the sky. Together our journey is endless, and there isn’t a single day or night that goes through us, but only days and nights that go with us.

Together we carry the weight of the world with us, soaring through light and darkness the same; no setting is unfamiliar, but even after lifetimes, there’s still an endlessness to explore.

This endlessness leads us back up to the mountain, where the sky is an abyss, and where the birds perch themselves to reflect, and then to rest.

But even when we rest, we’re still soaring; we set the mountain down only to pick it back up again. We meet the abyss as it meets us: from days and nights that are each a world in their own right, and which together rekindle us for the possibilities of even more, together.

J.T.

Anxious in Highland Park

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Greetings Los Angeles,

Today I greet the people from Highland Park on the North-east side. It’s a positively gorgeous day, with glistening marine layers overseeing The City and teasing the possibility of a little more rainfall before Spring kicks in next week. It probably won’t rain, but it’s nice to see the remainder of a California winter grappling with the sunlight for control of the sky.

And what a magnificent thing it is, to think the Spring is just over the horizon. Through so much work and wandering about over the last couple of months, at some point I seem to have forgotten about the seasons and the way everything has its time.

Like anyone else, I’ve created a routine out of my time, and the routine has become so ingrained in my mind that it’s seemed like something of a permanent state, when in actuality it’s only the latest chapter in the midst of so many more which follow.

This might seem logical enough, but it’s actually been a challenge for me to place into perspective. I’ve been struggling with a sense of direction lately, feeling out of place at work, and questioning just where and how I want to focus my time and energy as more time passes. The experience has been daunting, and in certain moments, it’s been frightening.

At times, the fear has made it difficult to appreciate the beautiful things in my life, including the simplest things like a conversation with friends and family, or the sound of a bird’s chirping in the morning. It’s also created anxiety, which in its darkest seems to turn the future into an unbearable weight on the mind that isn’t just difficult to carry, but more difficult to let go of.

Fortunately, even through the depth of these emotions, I’ve been able to recognize that probably the best thing to do when I feel overwhelmed is to reach out to others. Each time, this has proved to be just right.

Though they might not fully know it, the people in my life are the heroes and saviors of my life, as even in the moments when I can’t fully be with them, they can be with me just enough for my senses to rise past fear and anxiety and join them in the world. This is the greatest gift of them all; as it happens when the sunlight overtakes the cloudy haze over the sky, the realization that I’m still here for people to hear from, and that the rest of the world is still there waiting for me to be a part of it is more precious than any of the things I can worry about.

And I can find this precious nature about the world in the whirl of a car passing by, or in the relief of an exhalation from my lungs. I can find it in the sight of strangers smiling at one another, or in the memory of my own moments smiling before my friends. I can also find it in the comfort of earbuds enclosing my eardrums, or in the sound of people chattering about in conversation as they resemble the birds chirping in the morning. Watching them, I know I’m just like a bird too, and that I’m just saving my song for another time to be inspired by theirs for a moment.

Everywhere there is this moment. Everywhere there is a friend, or a place, or some other resource to find hope and refuge in. Everywhere there is life rising from the depths of the universe in full force, and everywhere there is something just waiting to have such energy returned.

And so, as I look up and prepare to lift off, whether in rain or in shine the sky continues to support my dreams.

I can only be hopeful of how everything ahead will show this to us, but in the meantime, I thank again everyone who’s supported this ode to the people of Los Angeles.

With more soon,

J.T.

Dear Los Angeles,

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It’s actually been quite some time since I wrote a ‘letter’ to The City. But at last, I’m back with so much excitement for what I see ahead. But before what’s ahead, I want to take a moment with The People of J.T. to think about what’s been.

As I said to a friend the other day, somehow things are always interesting for yours truly, with the last few months of work proving to be no exception.

It’s been nearly six months since I linked up with Starbucks, and while many terms come to mind for the experience, even to say it’s been fascinating would be an understatement. I think back to the first week on the job, when the act of standing for four to eight hours of the day flat out exhausted me by the time a shift came to an end. I’d go home and just doze off during those early days, and when I’d get the day off of work, I’d mostly just spend it at home, resting my body, and enjoying the peace and quiet of the neighborhood as opposed to the noise and commotion on the job.

At the same time, while at home, I’d take a glance at J.T., and mostly pass up the idea of another entry, telling myself that I’d get to it when just the right idea came along. A part of me was content with this, as I figured that rather than waiting for the right idea to come along, I’d sort of just let it happen more organically instead.

Naturally, however, another part of me couldn’t help but get a little anxious about the infrequency of an update, as it felt like I was neglecting the site. Beyond this, there were other things going on: needs around the home, schools to visit with The Plus Me Project, or weekly classes to attend with the InsideOUT Writers program.

And with work always around the corner, J.T. sort of had to edge out at the seams in the background. Following this period, as I got more in touch with the rhythm of work, J.T. found itself interested in the dynamics of the work environment, i.e., the people. I suppose this was inevitable; the people at work were so much like me at the same time that we were all so distinct from each other.

At Starbucks there was a team, and the team was made up of different personalities, skill sets, and habits, all of which came together to form the machine that powered the work. This machine fascinated me, as it allowed me to observe the way my teammates dealt with the challenges of the job, and as it gave me the opportunity to hear them describe their challenges outside of the job.

Through it all, I searched and found common ground with my teammates, and at the end of the day, I couldn’t help but be humbled at just how much our time together would reveal to me not just about them, but about myself.

Naturally, I didn’t spend all my time at work sharing with the team just how much I’d go home and think about our interactions, or how I’d analyze the shifts we’d get through together, but it was inevitable that I’d find a way to sneak in a blurb or two about how I viewed us as a unit, just as it was inevitable that at first the team wouldn’t exactly get my views, smiling politely but also estranged from me.

Eventually, the team would come around to appreciate the musings of yours truly as what one might call ‘Jimbo’s times’, and, of course, J.T. came around to truly appreciate the team.

Nonetheless, even with an understanding between me and the folks at work, as time passed the job wasn’t all smiles and laughter. Apart from the customers, at times differences between the team also led to moments of distance, disagreement, and even dysfunction. This would mean more than just a shortcoming at the store, but it’d mean that rifts would take form, and that we’d either have to resolve our differences or make a shift harder than it needed to be.

More often than not, we chose to be a team, which spoke to just how good of a unit we actually were, but even when there were issues that went unresolved, they didn’t really stem from any deep-seeded differences between each other, but rather from how one of us felt at a particular moment on a particular day of a particular week in contrast to someone else’s feelings.

At once this revealed the way any given moment of a day is made from the singularity between a myriad of moments before and around the one in question, at the same time just how any moment really does wield the power to shape our days, and by extension, the lives we lead.

As this came into perspective for me at the job, I realized how the time I spent away from my blog was a tradeoff for a time in which I could only embody J.T. as a lifestyle: one of humility, resilience, and hope, and one also constantly drawing inspiration from the work-day.

This would go on to show me how more than sunshine or car culture, and more than ‘chucks’ or ‘American Apparel’, more than anything, really, L.A. is so much work, or a place filled with hard workers, including yours truly.

As days on the job in this way became weeks, and as the weeks became months, somehow going to work became less about making money, and more about about honoring a dedication; a dedication to the team, to my mother, and to myself.

It was strange: I learned a lot about just how much I can handle at the same time that I learned about my limitations in a way I wasn’t aware of before the job, which then led me to take a step back from it all.

When I did this, I realized how grateful I was for work, and for the regularity it provided, and for the people it exposed me to, all of which showed me that not only could I stand for four or eight hours, but that I could meet my friends afterwards, hang into the morning, and still walk into work to get through another day.

This showed me my resilience, but more importantly, it brought to light how all the time and energy I’ve spent working for Starbucks over the last six months is exactly the kind of time and energy that I want to put back into JIMBO TIMES: The L.A. Storyteller.

At this critical time, when the whole world is still ahead of me, I know I can do anything I truly want to, but that what I still want is to take the city of L.A. on a ride like it’s never seen before!

I also know that I’m already on my way, and that the journey is promising, but that there’s still a great deal of ground to cover. As with any job or investment, I’m not afraid of the time it will take nor the challenges that I’ll find, but I’m eager to get started on delivering something truly unique to this place known as Los Angeles.

I’m also thankful for every ally that has helped me to reach this point — including the people at Starbucks as well as those outside of it — and for every ally still coming up!

At the end of the day, I’m confident that we’re all still coming up; and as I move forward with just what this will mean for The L.A. Storyteller. I also trust that the people of J.T. will hold me accountable.

With honor, respect, and so much excitement for what’s ahead,

J.T. – The L.A. Storyteller